


Carry On

by emeraldsage85



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsage85/pseuds/emeraldsage85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto spends a month on suspension, biding his time until Jack comes to collect him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On

Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes he doesn’t know how he’ll carry on with the week, the month, even the year after she’s died. During his time on suspension he thinks of nothing but her and what she became. It will always be his fault that he didn’t do what was right, what was kind, and what she would have done had their positions been reversed.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was everything to him and to lose her would have ripped out his soul and destroyed him. Instead he took her from the conversion unit and helped her live. Nobody noticed him hiding her in the chaotic aftermath of Canary Warf. Nobody noticed him stealing equipment, medicine, and various other supplies to keep her alive. They were too busy with the dead to bother much with the survivors. Most of them took Retcon or killed themselves anyway, absolving Torchwood of taking any responsibility for their care.

He slipped through the cracks and kept under the radar, hoping desperately that he could keep her safe until he could restore her to the person she once was. Anyone who gained knowledge of her would surely have killed her and he wouldn’t have fared much better. In the end it was all for nothing. She became a machine wearing his girlfriend’s face and he nearly succeeded in unintentionally causing a second invasion of cybermen.

The month afterwards is the hardest. He knows that according to Torchwood rules he should get worse than a suspension. At Torchwood One summary execution would have been the go-to method for traitors like him and he reminds Jack of that fact before leaving his office.

“This isn’t Torchwood One. Go home,” Jack says.

Ianto spends the month in his flat, alone, with only the occasional check-in from Jack to make sure he hasn’t topped himself. He thinks about it but never gets around to it, not having the energy to move from the sofa in front his TV, where he’s been lying for weeks. He simply doesn’t bother to do anything more than sit or lie there, watching bland daytime talk shows followed by news and sometimes awful made-for-TV movies that should never have seen the light of day. Venturing out only happens when he’s out of food or alcohol.

Then one morning near the month’s end he wakes up to find Jack in his flat, looking distastefully at the sordid nest of misery he’s made on the sofa consisting of his rumpled duvet, many crumpled tissues and dozens of empty beer cans.

 “Sir?” he says dazedly.

“Get dressed and clean up this mess,” Jack orders.

One word falls from his lips.

“Why?”

Jack looks angry very quickly. A hard, cold expression crosses his face and he’s across the room in an instant to grip Ianto’s arm.

“Get dressed and clean up this mess. Don’t make me tell you again or you’ll regret it,” he hisses.

Ianto recoils and drags his arm out of his boss’ grip.

“I need a shower,” he says quietly, trying to gauge whether or not this will result in another outburst from Jack.

“Do what you have to,” is all he says.

Ianto showers, shaves, and dresses himself in jeans and a jumper. Then he retrieves a bin bag to toss all of the used tissues into and sets the empty beer cans out for recycling. He’s just folding his duvet when Jack appears from the kitchen.

“We’re going out so get your coat,” he commands.

Jack watches Ianto like a hawk while he pulls on his coat and laces his trainers, as if daring him to do something out of line. Ianto tries to ignore it but it feels like those grey eyes are boring a hole right through him. He allows himself to be guided out to the SUV and gets into the passenger seat without comment, not wanting to push his already dwindling luck.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where we’re going?” Jack says as he gets behind the wheel.

“Where are we going sir?” Ianto asks dutifully.

“To have breakfast. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you have very little food in,” Jack says.

“Didn’t feel much like leaving my flat,” Ianto mutters.

“And yet you still managed to obtain enough alcohol to drown yourself,” Jack says disapprovingly.

“Just wanted to forget,” Ianto tells him.

“That ends now. You’re not allowed to drink or starve yourself to death,” Jack admonishes him, “It’s rule number one.”

“Rule number one of what sir?”

“The terms of your return to Torchwood,” Jack says.

“We’re going to discuss it over breakfast in a crowded restaurant?” Ianto asks in disbelief.

“I have a way of preventing anyone from listening,” Jack says with a taut little smile.

He pulls into the parking lot of a twenty-four hour diner and motions for Ianto to get out. Together they end up at a small table tucked away in the back. After ordering their food, Jack takes out a small box, opens the lid, and begins pushing a series of buttons inside.

“Bekeran tech. Nobody within a ten foot radius will be able to hear what we’re saying after I push the red button,” he explains.

Ianto doesn’t say anything and an uncomfortable silence falls as they wait for their food. Ianto stares at his lap and fiddles absentmindedly with the cutlery.

“How have you been coping?” Jack asks suddenly and Ianto is surprised to hear concern in his voice.

“Awful,” he says bluntly.

“That’s to be expected. You loved her,” Jack says.

Ianto swallows hard and murmurs, “I did,” cringing at their use of past tense.

“Then you know that what I did was right. The real Lisa was gone months before you brought her here,” Jack says.

“That’s a lie,” Ianto snarls, “She was completely herself until Doctor Tanizaki got her breathing on her own. It was like the cybermen part of her finally won then.”

“Ianto, she wasn’t Lisa. She was a cyberman wearing Lisa’s face and using her personality to get you to help her,” Jack explains patiently.

“I’ll never believe that. I can’t remember her as a monster because she wasn’t,” Ianto says.

“The Lisa you knew wasn’t a monster. Don’t remember her the way she was at the end. Remember who she was before: her laugh, her smile, the music she liked, her favourite colour… you know, little things like that. In the end all you have are your memories and you should keep the best ones close,” Jack says.

“Did it work for you?” Ianto asks.

For a moment a look of sadness creases Jack’s face and Ianto is just about to say something (although he’s not really sure what) when their food arrives. They both paste on fake smiles and thank their waitress. When she disappears, Jack’s expression is neutral again and he merely nods at Ianto, as if that should be answer enough. Ianto unrolls his cutlery from his napkin and then spears into a bit of egg with his fork.

“Do you really want to return to Torchwood?” Jack asks casually before stuffing some sausage into his mouth.

“It’s been my life for so long that I don’t think I could go anywhere else,” Ianto says truthfully.

“I’ll take that as yes then,” Jack says.

Ianto falls silent and focuses on eating the first good meal he’s had in weeks as he waits for the other shoe to drop. Surely there are some strings attached to his return; it would be naïve to think otherwise.

“Look,” Jack says firmly, “I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, just like I’d hate for you to tell me how to do mine. The Hub is spotless and we always have what we need so I have no complaints there. Carry on.”

“What’s the catch?” Ianto asks.

“You’re going to be monitored at all times and not just by the CCTV. If you so much as take a piss I’m going to know where you are and what you’re up to. Don’t think you’ll ever get away with lying to me again,” Jack says in a dangerously low tone.

Ianto puts down his fork and swallows hard. Suddenly the food doesn’t look quite as appetizing as it did a moment ago.

“Is that it then?” he asks.

“That and you’ll have to earn back the team’s trust. If you can’t do that then you’re a liability and you’ll be gone,” Jack declares.

“How long will I be given to do that?” Ianto asks.

“We’ll play it by ear,” Jack decides.

Ianto doesn’t quite know what to say to that so he picks up his fork again and attempts to resume eating. He manages to clear most of his plate silently under the watchful gaze of Jack and he realizes that just maybe, Jack expected him to put up more of a fight. At one time he might have but now he feels too broken, too tired to do anything but accept the new terms and conditions of his life and carry on.

When they’ve finished their meals, Jack says, “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

He drops some money on the table then deactivates the Bekeran tech and stows it in his pocket. The two of them head out to the SUV and take the long way back to Ianto’s flat, where Jack parks and looks at him almost expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something.

“When am I expected back, sir?” Ianto asks.

“Monday morning at your usual time. Make coffee,” Jack says.

“I guess I’ll see you then, sir,” Ianto says somewhat awkwardly.

He slides out of the SUV and makes for the front door of his flat, hearing the engine roar to life as his boss pulls away. Once inside he sinks to the floor and cradles his head in his hands. None of this was ever meant to happen; it was supposed to be a temporary stop until Lisa was cured and they could start their new lives together, free of the influence of Torchwood.

Now that she’s gone all he’s left with is the bleak reality of the ruins of his life after Canary Wharf. In the midst of this, Ianto wonders just how he can drop anchor here when it was the scene of so much destruction in his life. _Any port in the storm_ , he thinks.

He gets up from the floor and carries on, just like always.


End file.
